


A single, flashing, throbbing moment

by theladyofcamelias



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jaime Lannister is a troll, Jealousy, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, M/M, Sexual Tension, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-20 15:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19994335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyofcamelias/pseuds/theladyofcamelias
Summary: Instead of going to the Wall, Jon accepts Ser Jaime’s offer to become his squire.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the following prompt: Instead of going to the Wall, Jon is unexpectedly offered the honor of becoming Jaime’s squire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was inspired by the following prompt: Instead of going to the Wall, Jon is unexpectedly offered the honor of becoming Jaime’s squire.

“Not bad Snow. Next time spread your feet further apart, so your stance is better.”  
The Kingslayer’s drawl is infuriating, yet Jon obeys and fins that his stance is much better indeed. Jon would hate him if he wasn’t such a good teacher.  
But no matter how good he gets he can never so much as touch Ser Jaime, who blocks his blows with almost lazy moves, his sword held nonchalantly, like Jon isn’t even worth the effort of holding his blade correctly and it infuriates him almost more than the whispers of ‘bastard’ that follow him wherever he goes.

It is a great honor, he knows this. He had been fully set on going to the Night’s Watch, on swearing to guard the Wall until the end of his days. Ser Jaime’s offer had come out of nowhere, and had left him both perplexed and proud. Proud that his skill was being recognized, proud that he was being chosen over some lord’s son who, doubtlessly, would give an arm and a leg to have one of his sons squire for the famed Lannister Lion. 

His father is not too keen on the idea of his son squiring for a man without honor, but he knows all too well what an opportunity like this can do for a bastard boy like him who will have to make his own way into the world, so he does not stop him. Robb is more than jealous though. On their last night together, they’d huddled together in their childhood bed, whispering excitedly about the Kingslayer and how wonderful squiring for him would be.

Jon is technically to old to be a squire, but nobody comments on that, certainly not Lady Catelyn who is half ecstatic to see him leave, half offended that the honor of squiring for a knight of the Kingsguard wasn’t given to one of her sons.

“It should’ve been him.” She’d whispered hoarsely, looking at Bran’s still form. “He’s always wanted to squire for a knight of the Kingsguard, like Ser Barristan or Ser Jaime. It should’ve been him.”

He’d left after that, to say his goodbyes to Robb, who’d hugged him and made him promise to write often. 

“You’re getting better.” Acknowledges Ser Jaime as he disarms Jon with a stealthy move.  
“It doesn’t feel like it.” Jon bites out.  
Ser Jaime laughs, clapping his hand on Jon’s shoulder.  
“I suppose not.” He gestures for Jon to come sit with him. “So how are you liking King’s Landing?”  
It smells like shit, Jon wants to say, but even he realizes that would be poor manners. He tries to find a better reply, but Ser Jaime seems to understand him anyway.  
“It smells like shit. I know, I know. But it does have its charms.”  
“I’ve yet to see them.”  
Jaime grins mischievously.  
“Perhaps you haven’t been looking properly.”

He gestures at a bunch of ladies who were hanging around the training yard, gossiping and giggling amongst each other.  
“It seems like you have quite the admirers Snow.” He sounds bothered by it, though Jon can’t imagine why because he’s pretty sure that half of them are here for him anyway and not some bastard northerner.  
“No I don’t.” He says instead, blushing.  
“Funny. I just heard Lady Elaida mention how handsome she thought you were. Shall I go tell her that you’re a lost cause?”  
Jon takes a drink of water from the water-skin, his blush spreading to the top of his ears.  
“Is it that you don’t like women then? Because Lady Elaida would certainly be very disappointed to hear that.”  
Jon choked and spluttered as Ser Jaime laughed and clapped him on the back.  
“No need to act so shocked. Do you dour northmen not lay down with each other for warmth?”  
“Of course not.” Jon replies feebly.  
Jaime smirks, as though he knows some secret joke that Jon could never understand.  
“I see. Too honorable are you?”  
Jon doesn’t respond to that, instead taking another sip of water. Honor was something he never discussed with Ser Jaime, not anymore.

The silence between them sits heavy as they look at the master at arms roughly pick up a young boy by the back of his neck and throws him where his sword lay abandoned.

“You know you are getting better.” The Kingslayer says, not looking him in the face.  
“I am?”  
Jaime hums in approval. “A few more months like this and you’ll be ready to be knighted.”  
“I don’t want to be a knight.”  
The remark surprises Ser Jaime who looks at him pensively now, with more focus, and Jon’s body suddenly flushed under the attention.  
“Don’t want to be a knight.” He repeats. “Because of your faith I presume.” When Jon nods, he goes on. “Tell me Snow, do the trees answer sometimes?”  
Jon clenches his fists tightly before deliberately relaxing them.  
“No more than the Seven or the Drowned God.”  
“So no oaths of knighthood for you? You’re not planning on joining the Kingsguard?”  
Jon shakes his head no.  
“Good. Trust me, you don’t want to be the Queen’s brother and a Kingsguard.”  
“Oh?”  
He goes on. “You can’t be both. You can’t be part of the Kingsguard and the Queen’s brother because at some point, the King will do or say something terrible to your sister and you won’t be able to defend her and it’ll tear you apart on the inside.”  
“Bran wanted to be a Kingsguard.” Jon admits, voice tight, “Before...before, he used to prattle on and on about how he’d go south and meet all of the Kingsguard and be even better than them. It...it was his dream.”  
Tears sting his eyes as he thinks of Bran lying broken in his bed, small and defenseless, his legs shattered.  
Suddenly, he feels Ser Jaime’s hand on his thigh.  
“Jon... I’m sorry. About your brother. I’m sorry.” He says softly, some emotion shining in his eyes.  
“Thanks.”  
He takes his hand off, the spot he touched now oddly warm. He can still feel his hand there, its warmth, its weight. It was nice.

After a few awkward moments of silence, Ser Jaime claps his hands together once decisively before hopping to his feet and gesturing for Jon to join him. He throws the wooden sword at Jon and, before he has time to properly grab it, strikes him with his own. He tsks mockingly.  
“Focus Snow.” He smirks, showing a set of astoundingly white teeth.  
Fury courses through Jon as he raises his sword to strike a blow of his own.

“So,” he asks as he easily blocks Jon’s blow, “what are you planning to do Jon Snow. Since you don’t want to be a knight.”  
Nobody had ever asked Jon that. He shrugs.  
“I’ll probably go join the Night’s Watch.”  
Ser Jaime’s face twists into surprise, his brows raised and his mouth slightly open. He blinks a couple of times, his eyelashes fluttering in surprise, as though what Jon was saying was absurd.  
“The Night’s Watch? You think I’m training you so you can go freeze your balls off on the Wall? You’re far too talented for that.” He sounds offended on his behalf and Jon can’t remember the last time someone told him he was too good to join the Night’s Watch. People told him that he would waste his life, that the life of a black brother was too hard for him, but nobody ever told him that he deserved more.  
He gets so distracted that he almost misses Ser Jaime’s next blow. He barely blocks it, before taking two steps back to regain his footing. Ser Jaime eyes him critically, his green eyes scrutinizing Jon’s figure, as though seeing him for the first time.  
“It’s an honorable calling.” He says instead.  
“Honorable? If you call hanging around murderers and rapists while ‘defending the realm’ from snarks and grumpkins then yes. I suppose the Night’s Watch is very honorable.”  
The blows start raining on Jon, each quicker and stronger than the last. He barely manages to block them, but he does, something he couldn’t have said back at Winterfell.  
“Starks have manned the Wall for thousands of years. My uncle Benjen...”  
“No Starks have squire for oathbreaking Kingslayers and yet here we are. If you think I’m letting you squire for me so you go freeze your cock off in the North when you won’t even lay down with other men for warmth then you’re stupider than I thought.”

Jon’s face turns crimson which makes Jaime smirk.

“So why did you ask me to squire for you?” He asks finally, scowling.  
Ser Jaime grabs his forearm and pulls him closer. They’re face to face now, so close that Jon can feel Ser Jaime’s hot breath on his mouth.  
“Why haven’t you heard Snow,” he trailed his fingers across Jon’s lips, “I’ve never been good at denying myself pretty things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is another work for the asoiafrarepair prompt event. Jaime/Jon is such an odd pairing that I just had to give them a try. I was thinking I might do another one-shot of this universe but I’m not sure I will so I marked it as a one-shot for now. Is that something you guys would like to see? Please tell me in the comments. Thank you for reading, and I already have another promptfill lined up for tomorrow so... I’ll see you then!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon sneaks out of the feast being held at Winterfell in King Robert’s honor and ends up getting acquainted with the Kingslayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one-shot that takes place in the same universe. However, it takes place before the previous one-shot.

Jon is so busy hacking furiously at straw dummies in Winterfell’s courtyard that he doesn’t notice him until he speaks up.  
“Not bad. Not bad at all Snow. Tell me, do you imagine your half-brother’s head up there or Lady Stark’s?”  
Jon splutters and turns beet red. Truth to be told, he _had_ been imagining his father’s wife as he struck those dummies over and over again, his frustration at being hidden away manifesting itself in poorly concealed violence.

The Kingslayer is standing right behind him, an arrogant smirk on his face, looking him up and down like the sight of him fascinated him. _What_ , Jon wants to ask, _they don’t have bastards in the south? Or did you just want to look at Ned Stark’s only mistake?_ His features pull themselves into a scowl.

“Ah! Brooding, I see. I must say it looks well on you.”  
“Shouldn’t you be back at the feast, Ser Jaime?” Jon asks instead. He wants this conversation to be over so he can go back to hacking at the straw dummy in front of him. Unfortunately, Ser Jaime does not seem to be willing to accommodate him.  
“I’ve always hated feasts. Too crowded.” He wavs his hand dismissively. “Feasts were always more Tyrion’s affair.”  
“Shouldn’t you be protecting the king?”   
Ser Jaime’s mouth twists.  
“One of my brothers took my place.” He shrugs and picks up another wooden sword that was laying abandoned on the ground, giving it a couple of practice twirls.

“Spar with me Snow.”  
Jon was too shocked to be insulted at being called Snow.  
“Now? Won’t people miss you?”  
“Robert is too drunk to notice and my...delightful sister has decided to spend the evening talking to her future good-sister. So you see, nobody will notice if I am gone for a few moments.”  
Still, Jon is hesitant. The whole thing seems too convenient, like a trap. Except he could’t begin to comprehend why such a trap would be set.  
“Come on Snow!” Ser Jaime encourages him. “Trust me, nothing takes the edge off as well as a good...sparring session.”   
The way he says ‘sparring session’ makes Jon think he wasn’t talking about an actual sparring session. Still, be didn’t see what harm could come from him complying with Ser Jaime’s request. Besides, this was the Kingslayer. Robb, Arya and Bran would be terribly jealous when he told them. Especially Arya.  
“Alright.” He says tentatively.  
“That’s the spirit!”

The second Jon adjusts his stance, he finds himself being assaulted by a flurry of blows. He manages to block the first one, but not the second or the third one that hit his shoulder and his knee respectively. Before long, he finds himself disarmed, his sword thrown from his hands in a particularly smart move.  
The anger Jon feels at losing dissipates as Ser Jaime offers to teach him that move. He accepts so fast he might have gotten whiplash.

Ser Jaime strides over to him and proceeds to adjust his grip on the sword, showing him a different positioning of his fingers than the one he was taught by the Winterfell master at arms.  
“Here,” Ser Jaime’s hand is atop his, surprisingly warm, adjusting the grip of his fingers on the sword. “If you hold your sword this way your swings will be more powerful and you will have more freedom with the direction in which you can swing.”  
He takes his hand off Jon’s, causing him to miss the warmth of his hand and feel the cold biting into his hand.   
“Try it.”   
Tentatively, Jon gives the sword a swing.   
“See? Much better.”  
Hesitantly, Jon nods. Ser Jaime’s body is an ever present warmth behind him. He’s standing so close that he can feel every breath on the back of his neck. He puts his hand on Jon’s again and shows him the move he just used to disarm him  
“Let’s give it a try.”  
He picks his sword back up and starts raining blows on Jon. The grip is odd, and the sword clatters to the ground once more.   
“Another one.”   
He picks up his sword again and almost manages to disarm Ser Jaime this time, failing only because he was a second too slow.

“Not bad Snow.” He acknowledges.  
“Don’t call me that.” He finally snaps.  
Jaime smiles.  
“Why not? That _is_ your name. Isn’t it?”  
Jon grimaces and says nothing.  
“Let me tell you something about names _Snow_. They only have power if you let them.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You think I like being called _Kingslayer_ wherever I go? I don’t. But names can only hurt you if you let them. My brother taught me this lesson a long time ago.”  
“The Imp?”  
“He does not take kindly to be called that _Snow_.” He chastises.  
Jon blushes.  
“Apologies.”  
Jaime nods at him, before gesturing to the wooden sword Jon is holding.

“You’re not half-bad with that.”  
Jon perks up a little bit. The master at arms frequently praises his swordsmanship. But this is different. This is _Jaime Lannister_.   
“Thank you, Ser Jaime.”  
“Are you better than your trueborn brother?”  
Jon hesitates. The truth is he _is_ better than Robb, not by much mind you, but he is better with a long sword. However, if Lady Stark ever heard him say that, to a member of the Kingsguard no less, she would probably have him gelded for daring to make himself seem better than her son. Lord Stark would be disappointed, not because he would think Jon was lying, but because he abhorred bragging of any kind.   
“We both have our strengths.” He says instead.  
“Very diplomatic of you.” Jaime says. “But something tells me you’re not being entirely truthful with me.”  
“I don’t know what you mean Ser.”  
“Oh but I think you do. You can admit it here. No one will bite you. Well...” He winks at Jon, and Jon is just more confused.  
“What do you...” he starts.  
“You’re better than him, I can tell. You’re better than most green boys your age and that’s saying something. You must beat him many times.”  
“Sometimes.” He acknowledges. “And sometimes he beats me.”  
“That _is_ how sparring works.”   
“But...” And fuck it, so what if he brags a little to the Kingslayer. It’s not like he’s going to be here much longer anyways. “The master at arms _does_ say that I’m better than Robb with the long sword.”  
“Is that so?”  
Jon nods, his cheeks a pleasant pink.

“What are you going to do?” Ser Jaime asks.  
“With what?”  
“With your life! With your future!”  
“I’m going to join the Night’s Watch.” He says confidently.  
“The Night’s Watch? Why? Have you committed some terrible crime?”  
 _The terrible crime of being born a bastard_ , Jon thought.  
“No. But there’s not many places to go for a bastard boy.” Ser Jaime looks him up and down.  
“You’re far too pretty to go to the Wall.”   
Jon hated when people called him _pretty_. He detested it. So why was he blushing?  
“I’m not pretty.” He mumbled.  
“You are.” Jaime states. “With your curls and your pouty lips and your eyelashes.” His fingers stroke the side of Jon’s face, brushing a few strands of hair behind his ear. “Very pretty.”  
Jon hates it when people mentioned his lips. _Whore’s lips_ , Theon had called them before Robb made him stop. But somehow he didn’t mind this time.  
Ser Jaime’s fingers feel like wildfire as they stroke the side of his face, he can still feel the place he had touched tingle pleasantly.

“Why don’t you go with me? With us?” He quickly corrects himself.  
Jon startles backwards.  
“Go where?”  
“To King’s Landing.” He says as though it is the most obvious thing in the world.   
He wants to, he realizes suddenly, he wants so very badly. He wants to be with Arya as she causes mischief in the Red Keep. He wants to visit this place of songs.  
“It’s not proper.” He says instead. “The King would take offense to a bastard amongst his court.”  
Ser Jaime laughs.  
“Trust me, Robert will not mind so much. He has so many bastards running around it’s a wonder there isn’t one on every street corner.”  
Jon remains silent, pondering an answer.  
“Think about it. I’m in need of a new squire anyways.”  
“I’m too old to be a squire.”   
Ser Jaime winks conspiringly at him.  
“Not if I say you aren’t.”

He puts his hand on Jon’s shoulder.  
“Think about it.” He says before going to rejoin the feast, leaving Jon alone in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I was so happy with all the lovely and positive comments you left on the first chapter and I was really inspired to keep going. This is going to be a series of one-shots about Jon/Jaime in this universe. However they’re going to be out of order. Expect more one-shots from this because I’m invested in those two idiots’ relationship now lol. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this one-shot as much as you enjoyed the previous one.


End file.
